


the thunder answered back

by NyxKvistad



Series: BruDickWeek 2021 [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: BruDick Week, Bruce Wayne Loves Dick Grayson, Comfort, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dry Humping, Fever, Inappropriate Erections, Light Angst, M/M, Oral Sex, Pining, Resolved Sexual Tension, Sharing Body Heat, Trapped, Waiting To Be Saved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-12 17:29:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29014374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NyxKvistad/pseuds/NyxKvistad
Summary: They are trapped in a cave, only that it's not their cave; as they wait for someone to save them, Bruce can't help himself but notice how much Dick has grown up, and no, he's not proud of what he's thinking.
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Bruce Wayne
Series: BruDickWeek 2021 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2126397
Comments: 18
Kudos: 83
Collections: BruDick Week 2021





	the thunder answered back

**Author's Note:**

> Day 2: Sharing Body Heat ~~| Dick Was Never Adopted AU | Inside the Batmobile~~
> 
> [x] Sharing Body Heat is a trope I like reading, but not so much writing it. However, I challenged myself to write this prompt for the BruDickWeek.  
> [x] In canon, Dick refers to "the L-word" as love, the thing Bruce can't admit he feels.

It's been sixteen hours trapped underground, and time has never felt this long.

Bruce has already been in this type of trouble before, but never with no backup plan besides waiting for someone, _anyone_ to find them. He is failing Dick, his first Robin, former protegeé, and light of his heart. His boy should be sleeping in the bed of his Blüdhaven's apartment, safe and sound, protected by the high-security system that Bruce installed when he moved there.

Instead, here they are in the middle of nowhere. No food, no water, no phones. All that they have is each other to rely on, just like old times when Dick still wore his canary yellow cape and jumped in green, pixie boots.

"Chill, old man," Dick says with a weak smile. Blame it on the blood loss. He's not wearing his mask anymore, so his eyes don't lie about how much pain he is in.

Unlike Nightwing, Bruce doesn't relinquish. He keeps the cowl intact, covering half of his face. At least, this way he pretends that soon, they will be rescued.

On the other hand, Dick copes by talking. Seriously, Bruce should tell him to shut up as he is wasting energy on nothing productive. Yet, he doesn't have the heart to silence him, considering that he is the one who got them into this trap.

He fails him just like when Harvey almost killed him, just like when the Joker shot him. This situation makes him feel useless. For now, all that he can do is to keep Dick's body close to him and offer him his cape as a blanket.

But it's not enough. Of course, it is not. Such a familiar feeling for these two forlorn souls who love each other deeply and somehow, they haven't yet found a way to reign each other's heart in peaceful harmony and silent devotion.

**[. . .]**

Time goes on and one, and no, Dick isn't getting any better. His wounds are infected, and his body is fighting it with a fever. His immune system seems to ignore that they don't have antibiotics to assist, and there's only left 250 ml of purified water in a bottle, kept by Bruce for Dick to drink.

As for him, Bruce isn't feeling well either. Half of his body is numb due to the harsh conditions.

Nonetheless, all his focus is on Dick. He might not be his Robin anymore, but he will always be _his_ to protect and defend.

"Dick," Bruce says as a warning. One that Dick understands as his smile falters. He's so tired that he doesn't even complain.

"Don't you dare to give up," Bruce says with a raspy voice. It's not hopeful cheering, it's an order.

"Thanks, B," Dick's voice is barely a whimper as he clutches with his hand the Bat sign of Bruce's suit, holding onto him with what life he has left. 

**[. . .]**

Bruce calculates it's been a day and a half, so he is certain that both Superman and Wonder Woman have noticed by now that they didn't make it to the meeting point. Good news since Clark knows that in these cases, he should call Alfred and the Robin in turn.

( _Robin in turn_. _God, how he has failed them._ Self-deprecating thoughts, Bruce's area of expertise.)

It's not alright, nothing it is, but it has to be because he is not letting Dick die here. He's not a man to perish underground, so far away from the warmth of his family and friends.

"B, it's getting colder."

The voice takes him aback. Dick hasn't talked or move for what must have been hours. You know Dick Grayson is in bad shape if he's neither talking nor moving.

"Noted." Yes, it's colder than before, and soon they would have to strop from their uniforms to keep each other warm.

Skin on skin, closer and closer. Painfully closer.

**[. . .]**

Stripped from their suits, it seems harmless to let Dick snuggle on his chest and hug him tighter than ever. It is the human thing to do since the temperature is so low.

He is committing no crime. This is an act of sharing body heat with another adult, consensual cuddling, but the voice in the back of his head can't stop whispering to him how dangerous is the proximity between their bodies.

He says to himself: "It's part of a protocol to stay warm, proved by science." But lying to himself has never been this difficult.

To be fair, he isn't the only one struggling. Sleep doesn't greet Dick with kindness, and the fever isn't gone yet. Bruce wants to think that they are the reason why Dick twists and grasps himself closer to his chest, locking his legs around his waist, which brings him to his second problem. Dick is sick. Obviously, he needs someone to watch over him. Someone who probably shouldn't also be lusting over him, but they don't have more options.

So he resigns to his faith of unsatisfied dark desires, self-loathing, hating each second that his body betrays him by popping a hard erection.

The contact is too intimate for Bruce, who barely keeps it together by slowly breathing in and out. How many times he has to say "This means nothing, he doesn't want me that way" for Bruce to believe it?

Though he insists on his goodwill, his good intentions do nothing to keep his thoughts pure. Dick is just right here, tucked in his black cape, trusting his life on Bruce. What would Dick do if he knew that he wants to kiss his lips and entwine his fingers with black strands of hair? What would he say if Bruce kisses his neck and lick his cold sweat?

What would he do if Bruce tells him that he's enjoying how his bodies touch?

What would he do if Bruce confesses, excused by delirium, that he would like some privacy to get off?

Would he be disappointed that his former mentor is a pervert equal to the criminals they fight?

Bruce swears he can see John Grayson, writhing in his grave, eyes sharp like an owl; if he were alive for a moment, surely he would threaten him with a knife in his hand, "stay away from my son." Bruce would like to blame him, he would like to get mad at John, but he can't, as he is right. Kissing the peach lips of his boy is inappropriate, but it is twice as much because it is Dick. _His Dick_ . This precious man, who deserves all that it's good with the world; no, he can't corrupt him. 

But that's the issue. Dick is John's son, not his. This gorgeous, phenomenal man is the one John called Dickie. Bruce, on the other hand, he would like to call him _mine_ , as he kisses his forehead in the morning, after spending the night together. 

And if he dares to be more honest, he would like to call him his lover as he pounds into his tight hole, burying his cock in his warm roots, and making him beg for more.

Yes, John can stab him. Bruce earned it. 

**[. . .]**

Just his luck.

The next time Bruce wakes up, it isn't caused by the cold. No, he wakes up because Dick Grayson is dry humping on him, still asleep and unaware of his hips' movement. 

This must be the work of a cursed God, summoned by his impure thoughts. It seems that it was Zeus since he can hear the thunder outside of their confinement.

On the positive side, if the thunder is within his range of hearing, for Clark, it will be easier to hear the beating of their hearts as long as they keep breathing.

The rush of hope and lust hits him harder, and he forgets that Dick's sleep is light, so he touches his head, and that's enough to wake up the young man.

When he opens his eyes, he is clearly disoriented, yet his hips don't stop as Dick's body clings to a source of heated pleasure. It's until he moans, listening to his own wrecked voice, that he catches up with reality.

"Fuck, no, Bruce?" Dick says panting as his hands grasp his upper arms tightly, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he begs as he humps on his leg faster, "I'm sorry, I'm so close, forgive--" Bruce kisses him to silence his distress. There's no reason for Dick to ask for forgiveness, Bruce is more than okay with helping him to feel some relief.

"Bruce, please" Dick breaks the kiss, he's crying and though Bruce isn't sure what he's asking for--he takes a chance--and spits on his hand to pump Dick's hard cock, and help him come.

Dick doesn't last, he spills on his hand as Dick moans on top of his mouth, foreheads touching and two pair of eyes meeting each other with rare vulnerability.

"I'm sorry?" Dick tries again with a gentle smile.

"It's alright," Bruce smiles too, though his smile may look like a grimace.

"Oh," the realization that Bruce accepted his advances finally settles on Dick's mind, "good, me too." Dick chuckles playfully, and takes Bruce's dirty hand with his own, "let me help you." Then he has the boldness of licking the semen with his sinful tongue, not losing eye contact with him, not even one second.

Bruce stares in amazement. He would like to ask Dick how is this his definition of helping him since it's making his erection growing harder.

"Don't worry," Dick says as he finishes licking the last drop of come from his fingers. "I'll take care of _it._ " There's no doubt _it_ is his cock as Dick grasps his cock.

"Dick, you don't have to, it's not a--"

But Dick is fast, taking _all_ his hard length in one gulp. Bruce watches him, choking on his cock, breathing with difficulty through his nose as the obscene gagging sounds echoed through the place. 

Bruce wants to stop him and demand him to say who taught him to suck cock like that, he wants the name, so the hero community doesn't run out of redheads after he's done with them. But also, he doesn't want this to end; he wants to feel Dick swallowing his cock with such eagerness and concentration every day, every night. With regularity, as a natural response of their mutual feelings. 

Dick takes half of his cock with one hand, and licks his head, cleaning his precum, as he hums in delight. "You taste so good," he says, making Bruce choke on bewilderment, just like a virgin, even though he is the most experienced one between the two. Or at least, that's what he believes.

He takes a moment to speak, not without still stimulating his cock with his hand. He looks at him and says: "You can come in my mouth," smoothly, with devilish charm in his eyes.  


How was Bruce supposed to last more than two seconds after such a proposition? He comes in a sudden moment, electrifying his body from his pelvis to his toes. As promised, Dick opened his mouth to take all his seed and licked the remaining drops of cum on his chin. 

Dick says nothing, but he shifts his body to sit next to him, tied hip by hip, but still looking at each other. 

"Are you alright?" Bruce knows he's not; Dick looks the wrong type of wreck. The one you go from illness and not after a session of sex. 

The question makes it simpler for Dick to let go and cry in Bruce's shoulder. He's in pain, and the pain isn't going down, and there's nothing Bruce can do about it. They need to get help soon before the infection gets worse.

"I'm sorry," Dick's voice is muffled by his whimpering.

"You did nothing wrong," Bruce reassures him as he strokes his hair softly, slowly massaging his scalp until they fall asleep again. 

**[. . .]**

When Clark finds them, he is careful not to ask prying questions.

Silence reigns all the way home, and it's not until Clark is gone and the two have received medical attention that Dick breaks the silence.

"Are we okay?" His voice of him echoes in the cave, and as usual, it is this cave that witnesses the most intimate moments they share.  


"We're okay," he says, hoping that his words conveyed the certainty of this thing he feels for him. This one thing he's careful not to call the L word. Not for now, at least.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos, comments, bookmarks, subscriptions... the author loves them all! Thank you <3


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